Forbidden Gods

(?). Uncovered Wounds

He laid there on the ground to be close to the scent of Earth and lost all sense of time, until Argento found him. "Achilles...Achilles, sir it's morning." At the sight of the new born sun blinded his eyes making him shield it and not see the face of him speaker. But from the thing's raspy voice and short shape he knew it was Argento. "What." He replied; still picking up the pieces of what happened yesterday and arranging them in order. "Morning?" Argento helped the warrior up from the grassy ground then brushing bits of grass off his back. When the man began unconsciously let his hands slip on his butt Achilles grabbed his wrists. "Oh! Sorry." He didn't say anything back of the issue and began walking off into the building.

"Wait! Where are the players? Are they back?" The short man was shuddering at the attention he was getting from the pretty strong man. "Well, well. Yes they've been back since before the sun came up." "Then why didn't you wake me!!" Achilles charged off leaving the man startled and dribbling apologies. "They are just outside waiting for you... It's been an honor working with you." He's not listening. He told himself then walked out of the story. (In the end, the little gerbil found a nice bottle to go home to.)

Achilles came in from the back of the first room. Nothing changed in the scenery, wine was drought and women were making pleasure for their men. "Paris? Paris!" "My lord, we're here." The same old man was standing near the entrance waving his arm for attention through the sea of people. Many people were pushed by Achilles for him to get to the other side but with good intention. "Where's Paris?" It was the first thing that he said to the man when faced to face. "Well good morning to you too. He's in the wagon. Yah, the lord was so happy with our performance that he gave us this wagon in return of it. Pretty random object to me, but I thought it was perfect for you two to smuggle out of this city now that word is out of the prince." Achilles grabbed the man's tunic to raise his height a little more. "Word is already told of this!" The old man nodded.

Damn, gossip in this city really has its way. Achilles thought to himself, and right he was. There was no such thing as secrets in the city and any morsel of news spreads like a plague. While Achilles slept, Paris' escaped made its way through the city like a ripple; starting from the source point and encircling all over the town in a matter of moments. Just when the thought cleared his mind the party of players pulled up with a tall wagon leading behind them. The old man pointed it out. "You go in there and your friend is waiting for you." "I have a feeling he is not." Achilles told himself as he climbed into the wagon.

It wasn't something that you could stand in. From its shape it was meant to carry goods like wheat. The only thing that protected them from evil eyes was a sheet that covered over the wagon. As Achilles slide himself in, having to lie on his side; Paris was already there sleeping on one side of the wagon. But his breathing was to fast to be sleeping. "Paris, I know you're awake." And the prince's cover was blown. He opened his eyes and scooted over to give Achilles more room, then said no more for a long while.

Achilles normally welcomed silence. However, when it came being with Paris; he longed it talk to him. "My mother use to say, that: We are attached to the Earth by a thousand threads." Paris turned his way towards Achilles. "What does that got to do with today?" He thought for a while before answering. "Nothing...just wanted to make conversation." Paris let out a frustrated sigh and Achilles felt foolish of himself. Oh goddess of wisdom, take my tongue for yours just this once.

Done with small talk Achilles used another plan to ease Paris' soul. He moved closer to Paris, back to his front and massaged his back. It always helped him to ease some kind of weight off his shoulders. Soon Paris' shoulders began to relax from Achilles' touch. "What's troubling you my love?" Achilles whispered lightly into Paris' ear. "I told you I don't want to talk about it." "You know it hurts me... very deeply. It feels that you don't trust me to really know you, as you don't love me as much as I do you." Paris stayed silent and Achilles believed that was all he was going to get out of him.

If he can't trust me, then how will he really love me? All of this planning, waiting, for what? To get him raped, and our love diminishing by the hour. If it was all Aphrodite's' fault then I wished she would charm Paris again. He was so into his thoughts, not knowing Paris turned to face him again. "Just because I won't tell you does not make any difference that I love you." His thumb traced along Achilles' soft full lips, in taking the smoothness of it all then beginning again. "When I feel like it I will tell you but now, I would rather talk to you about anything else then that."

"Then you wouldn't mind explain this." Achilles grasped Paris' wrists, which were bare from any bracelet. Knowing that Achilles meant this he pulled them away from his hands then examine for himself. "It was a long time ago...Before Helen, before we had any idea of Sparta. It was only a phase I went through nothing more." A lock of curl fell into his eyes giving meaning for Achilles to brush it away. "I promise you that you will never have to feel to do that again. The worst thing in the world to not have you and knowing you're alive is to not have you because you are not alive."

When he said this, Paris wanted to break for the first time since Helen passed away and collapse in a trembling grief. He wanted Achilles to hold him tightly as tears would flood forth. Then wept with loud cries against his shoulder for the terrible sorrow of it all. But he didn't, he held it in. Not daring to look into his eyes. Achilles could feel the way Paris breathed something was conflicting in his head. He so much wanted him to sort what ever was in his head. And he did.

Achilles leaned down to Paris' level for a tender kiss, but the prince beat him to it. By grabbing Achilles shoulders over him, he closed his eyes, and a wave of darkness washed over him as he fell back against the flat board with Achilles' weight and heat upon him. The warrior lifted one of Paris' thighs over his waist for a comfortable way to lie himself down on him. Their kiss deepened, by twirling their tongues with the other for a battle that will never be won. Achilles began to get hard and he knew Paris was also, because after each breath he let out a small moan.

The prince was getting his impatient self and tugged Achilles' tunic off so that he could taste once more his bare flesh. Once it was off he rolled on top of the warrior licking his way down his wide chest, then his toned abs. When his skirt got in the way, making him stop his expedition to Achilles' groin he untied furiously at the belt that held it up. Knowing now what Paris was going for Achilles let out a groan, arching his back and pulling at his blonde hair. Finally the skirt was tossed from Achilles' flawless body he rolled back over Paris, now on top this time. The prince laughed on how much Achilles wanted to be the dominate one. He thought Achilles was going to kiss him, but by surprised he went for his neck which was even better for him.

The soft moans were not heard from the gossiping players, who went on about their night performance and questioned where Argento was. By now Paris was stripped naked, pulling at Achilles' hair while he lathered his tongue on the princes' neck. "Achilles, do it." Achilles stopped with a puzzled look on his face, not knowing what Paris meant by that. The prince let out a sigh then rolled on top of Achilles spreading his strong thighs. "Oh so that's what you meant." Achilles chuckled. Before plunging into Achilles, Paris kissed him making Achilles grab his face from not going back to what he was doing. During their kiss, Achilles felt a slight burning inflammation down below that made him tear away from Paris and tried to grip on the bare wood making fingernail marks. Once a moment passed the sourness of Paris died away, replaced by an even stronger sensation that pushed into him.

From the many times they made love with each other yesterday, the burning feeling he got between his legs lessened each time they did it. Paris watched his warrior experience the wonderful feelings he was now enduring with tightly closed eyes. Achilles grabbed Paris, with one arm stretched over his shoulders and the other on his ass pulling him deeper into himself. Out of all their bedding each other, this was one of the most inactive rides they had on one another. They really couldn't use their imagination in a place so small. But in the place they were now in, running away from a city in disguise, and being enclosed in a tight compartment together on a hot day; just the idea was so erotic.

Both Paris and Achilles were yearning for release. Now their slow, deep thrusts developed into a more rapid pace. Them two were now breathing so heavy that their kisses were always interrupted for them to catch their breath. Now they were breath into each other's ear; just riding themselves out; reaching their climax. When they knew it for sure, feeling dizzy and weary, wanting to close their eyes, a voice called from outside. "Achilles! Soldiers are coming!"

The warning made them stop abruptly. "They are just going to talk with the players that's all." Achilles tried to reassure Paris. Unlike the prince worry doesn't flood his mind as quickly as Paris'. He was still feeling Paris inside of him and was close at begging him to release him. "I'm going to have to take it out now." Paris whispered. "Nooo." Achilles whined. "Just leave it in there for a few, not yet." But Paris didn't pay any attention to Achilles' begging and then began to pull on his clothes.

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